


Enough

by hurinhouse



Category: White Collar
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 07:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3165977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurinhouse/pseuds/hurinhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's that moment again, and Peter can't wait any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

It's that same moment that hits Peter again, right in the middle of late night shit-shooting, between the quips and the fake old arguments that taste like home. He never expects it because it's rare for Neal to be so unguarded. Peter would have been doomed long ago otherwise. 

So he watches Neal look down after a joke that hits just right, smiling at the floorboards for a second, maybe two. A subdued laugh. But he _has_ to look away, doesn’t he? 

Then his eyes swing back up and that's the moment. The paleness of them socks Peter in the gut. This time they're saucers of ice on an Alaskan evening when the moonlit sky throws a blue tint to the snow. The visual got him years ago on Neal's terrace, that morning after they'd wrapped The Dutchman, when Neal politely made small talk about Peter's suit and his anniversary and Elizabeth's vacation until he couldn't wait any longer to ask whether he was going back in. Peter had seen something in him then, behind the various masks. He remembers being startled by how it felt, but he'd buried it and didn't dig it up again for weeks. It wasn't difficult. He'd barely known Neal, no matter how much he'd thought he had.

He knows him now. Sometimes he catches himself worrying that Mozzie knows Neal better. Then he remembers that he's forty nine years old, for Christ's sake - get a grip, and he shoves down anything that could be construed as jealousy. But it stings when Neal mentions Mozzie at that moment. Just a repeated observation of the latest government theories but it's a side-step again and it's intentional. 

Peter ignores the comment and his stare wills Neal to drop it. He's never pushed like this, but the opportunity has presented itself and he’s not going to sweep it under the rug this time. Neal's eyes flicker away once more and this time Peter's ready. He scoots closer, sliding his beer bottle away. The previously vacant part of Neal's dining room chair is cooler through his slacks, and when Neal looks up again Peter moves in. His lips are four inches from Neal's (pink and soft and smooth) when Neal's breath hitches just slightly. Not a gasp. Neal has too much discipline for that. But his bottom lip drops just half an inch and witnessing that lack of control is far more effective than Viagra.

"Peter." Neal's tongue darts out, a nervous tell he forgets in these moments, and his swallow is audible. He watches Peter a moment, his face a mirror to Peter’s want, before delivering the verdict. He raises his brow in that little-boy apprehension, then lets it drop again before breathing low, "I don’t want to lose us." It takes a few seconds for it to sink in, but he doesn't have to say more. 

Peter nods and sits back, swallowing something heavy in his throat, the label on the beer bottle now the most fascinating thing in the room. A rush of guilt rips through him that he was willing to risk losing them. When did Neal become the cautious one? As his face heats up he wishes he'd have broached this ages ago, so he’d be over it by now, because this door slamming down on his heart ?... makes it hard to breath or think or see. 

But it's enough… to be acknowledged, to see the same in Neal's eyes. He doesn't have to _have_ Neal, as long as he has Neal. They will solve cases and go to lunch and drive each other insane and it can be enough. It will be enough.


End file.
